


You’d swoon, you’d sigh (working shifts till we cried)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Banter, Fluff, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26929648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: Cora’s finding herself in South America, and someone has to take on some of her hours at the coffee shop she owns. Derek is not the right guy for the job, and his shift lead is the ultimate distraction. But at least he’s right in time for PSL season. Fuck his life.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 53
Kudos: 473
Collections: A Very Sterek Fall 2020





	You’d swoon, you’d sigh (working shifts till we cried)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bewarethesmirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethesmirk/gifts).



> Watch me combining ideas like a boss. 
> 
> For an awesome prompt by Bewarethesmirk for my 500 tumblr follower prompt fest AND my first offering for A Very Sterek Fall.

“You idiot. That’s not how you make a cappuccino.”

If that child that he’s supposed to report to calls him an idiot one more time, Derek is going to completely shred the apron with his claws. It has been two hours of nothing but this, and this is only Derek’s second shift at this dumb coffeeshop. 

His first shift working with Stiles. 

It’s what’s on the nametag, but Derek is pretty sure no parent would name their kid Stiles. 

“This is not my first time making a cappuccino,” Derek is trying, honestly trying, not to resort to murder before he’s done with this shift. “I think I got it.” 

Sure, he hasn’t exactly spent a lot of time working at coffee shops, not since he was a teenager and in desperate need of more money so him and Laura didn’t get evicted from their shithole apartment that could have doubled as a closet. And back then he was the master of the most complicated drinks. He’s got a great memory and he doesn’t have to worry as much about hot or cold when he’ll be healed before anything can truly hurt him. So he’s fast and smart and he knows how to fake a smile for a decent tip. 

Though maybe he’s forgotten about that last one a bit in the past however many years. 

“Where’s the details, dude?” Stiles waves his hands around like they’re making his point for him. 

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek tries to interject before his shift lead goes off on another tangent. 

Stiles is a grad student in NYU’s folklore program, he’s originally from a small town in California that Derek ‘has never heard about because the most exciting thing that’s happened there is that Stiles got out’, and he’s a talker. Boy, is he a talker. 

After a few hours, Derek already knows more about him than he does most of the people in his life - possibly even Cora. It’s not like she’s an open book, after all. 

“Where’s the artistry?” Stiles just continues as if he hasn’t heard a word Derek is saying - which is nothing new. “A little heart in the foam, or a pretty leaf. It’s fall, after all.” 

Fall. Because of course it’s fall. Of course it’s hipster season. Derek hates hipsters and their dumb drinks and their shitty tips on their soy lattes, because they think that just because they can pay for the overpriced drinks, they don’t have to shell out on an actual tip. Because they’re already spending a decent amount of money. 

Clearly they do not understand the cost of syrup and soy milk. Shocking. 

“It’s not just about the coffee,” Stiles still isn’t done, apparently. “It’s about the vibe, about the atmosphere, about going the extra mile so people won’t just go to Starbucks instead. We hate Starbucks. We like customers. Customers mean we get paid for our hard work.” 

Derek gives him a look that is supposed to tell Stiles exactly how little of this is new information to Derek, and how little fucks he has to give about a fucking vibe. He doesn’t do vibes, he does filling in as a favor to a friend (his sister) while they fuck off to South-America, and abandon their pack just so they can try to find themselves in the midst of the Amazon. 

Is he still pissed at Cora? Hell fucking yes. 

“I’m not saying you’re not working hard,” Stiles completely misinterprets Derek’s glare. 

Good, because he is. Derek actually has a fulltime job outside of this dumb stuff, and he’s not going to keep his clients waiting on their important translations just because Derek’s sister is irresponsible enough to bail on the business she co-owns with one of her friends that Derek’s never bothered to meet. Because he’s not interested in being hit on by a co-ed who thinks Derek is some kind of brooding Byronic hero. 

Been there, done that. Not going there again. 

“Alright, so latte art,” Stiles moves on - fucking finally. “Here at Luna we happily encourage you to go where the muse takes you, as long as the art includes no offensive symbols or insults to the customers. And sadly, no genitalia. Dick cups are not allowed.” 

Jesus Christ, he sounds like he’s done it before. And it worked for him. 

There is no way that Cora is behind the ‘go where the muse takes you’ philosophy, so it must be the random friend’s call. The random friend that Derek is helping out for the next few months, or however long until the friend either gets a replacement for Cora or Cora decides to pull her head out of her ass and come back to New York. To her pack. To her family. 

“What if the muse isn’t taking me anywhere?” Derek barely refrains from air quotes. 

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” Stiles turns to him, eyes suddenly a lot less bright and a lot more suspicious. “Your brows are kind of hard to read. I couldn’t tell until now.” 

Derek shrugs, because he is totally fucking with this child, but he also doesn’t want Stiles to tattle on him to the owner, because he will never hear the end of it if Cora or Laura finds out about him not even managing a week of this bullshit. 

“Alright sass brows,” Stiles seems to pick up on the quote unquote vibe Derek is putting off. “I see you’re determined not to get along with me, and that’s fine. You wouldn’t be the first employee to have tried that, and you probably won’t be the last. I just feel like I should warn you: it never lasts. People always love me eventually. I’m very lovable. I grow on you.” 

This version of Stiles is slightly more tolerable - and as he thinks that Derek is not considering the Darcy-esque connotations of it all that Laura would fucking die over. Laura is delightful like that, the Alpha of the Hale pack who could sooner cut anyone who looked at her wrong, but also watched Hallmark movies obsessively because ‘Alphas want romance too, Der-Bear’. She’s ridiculous and he adores her beyond all reason - he owes her everything and he’d work in a dumb coffee shop for a full year if she wanted to fuck off to South-America. 

Okay, so maybe Derek is a terrible brother who is not supposed to have a favorite. 

“Like a fungus,” Derek finishes the rant for him. 

“Exactly,” Stiles doesn’t even seem offended. “Dude, I don’t give a shit if you can be a bit of an asshole to me - gives me an excuse to dish it right back. As long as you’re not openly a dick to the customers, it’s all fine by me. Well, you do have to do the latte art thing. Boss’ orders.” 

Seriously, when Cora finally comes back - it already feels like a ‘finally’ type of deal after a week or so - he’s going to tell her exactly where to shove her ‘muse’ bullshit. Either Cora has changed more than Derek expected her too in the years she spent building a life with people not called Hale, or there’s something about the friend that makes people want to do weird things. 

Derek isn’t sure he wants to find out which option it is. 

“It’s our brand, big guy,” Stiles rolls his eyes at the word ‘brand’, because apparently he isn’t a complete waste of space. “Whatever it takes to help us compete, I guess. And whatever it takes to keep me in a free drink per shift and enough money to cover at least some of the shit my scholarship doesn’t cover. New York may be a lot of things, but cheap isn’t one of them.” 

And that Derek understands. Sure, it’s been a few years since he was in college himself, but he knows all about trying to make ends meet in a city that can be so very cruel to the people who love it. And he’s not actually trying to make Stiles lose his job - not yet anyway. 

“Seriously, dude, what brings you here?” Stiles asks it outright. “You don’t have a passion for coffee, you don’t seem to enjoy the service industry at all, and you don’t look like you’re starving. Is this just a side thing for you? Are you doing porn as your day job?” 

The first part of the deduction isn’t actually all that terrible, because Derek knows that he doesn’t fit the starving student and/or artist stereotype that most baristas seem to these days. He’s too old, for one, his thirtieth birthday approaching far too rapidly and Laura giving him a never ending pile of shit over it. Also, he can’t make himself enjoy customer service when he’s doing it face to face. Platitudes are much easier over email. 

It’s the porn assumption that he’s less than impressed with. Sure, it’s probably supposed to be a compliment on Derek’s looks, but it just… Derek has heard it too many times before. 

Maybe that’s his excuse for doing what he does next. 

“So you’ve seen my videos,” Derek deadpans. 

Stiles flushes and Derek has to put up a surprising amount of effort trying not to inhale the aroused scent he gives off at that. Now that? That is new, and unexpected, and terrible. 

This kid smells really good. Like, now that he’s actively giving off these chemosignals so that Derek can smell him and not just the coffee, tea and baked goods related scents that this place is filled with… Well, Stiles’ scent is appealing enough for Derek to consider signing up for an extra shift with him, for him to consider asking Stiles to help him out a bit after hours in an empty shop, so he can get his lips and teeth and tongue on that fucking neck, and whoah. 

This is the worst possible time for this to happen. 

“Asshole,” Stiles tells him, far too adorable nose in the air as he tries to hide a grin. 

“Well yeah, there’s a lot of assholes in porn,” Derek is really trying to keep a straight face, because he likes getting the upper hand when it comes to banter. “It’s porn.” 

He’s never actually done porn - of course he hasn’t, Laura would have fucking killed him after shaming him to death for not living up to what Talia Hale had wanted for them. She would have talked about their mother for long enough for Derek to retroactively lose any boner he’d ever had, because ‘it’s a good thing Mom is gone, otherwise she might see it’. That is exactly what Laura would have said. He knows her far too well. 

And Derek has enough shame related to sex. He doesn’t feel like adding to it. 

“Oh. My. God,” Stiles says, as if every word is a full-on sentence. “You’re my new favorite person. Sorry Scotty, you’ve officially been replaced. It’s all Stiles and Derek now. Sterek!” 

Scott is Stiles’ best friend. Derek knows these things now. Because has he mentioned that Stiles is a talker? Because Derek knows things about Scott that he’s pretty sure he really shouldn’t be allowed to know about a perfect stranger. 

Still, Stiles positively reeks of happiness when he says it, so Derek is just going to go along with it because he’s basically high on this kid’s scent. Laura would be making a werewolf catnip joke right about now, and oh God, he’s going to have to tell her. He is going to have to tell Laura about Stiles when he gets home. It’s basically pack law to tell your Alpha when you’ve found someone you strongly suspect to be your mate.

Because that’s not actually a fairytale after all. Who knew? 

“We need to work all the shifts together,” Stiles tells him. 

“Okay,” Derek replies without ever even thinking about it. “We can do that.” 

If Stiles ever finds out how much power he has over Derek right now, Derek is going to be in so much trouble. Sure, it’s just a temporary part of the whole ‘mate’ deal, but Stiles probably won’t need a whole lot of time to make sure Derek is wrapped around one of those long fingers. 

He even has nice fingers. This mate fugue thing is no fucking joke. 

“See, I totally grow on people,” Stiles grins triumphantly. 

Maybe on normal people, maybe on humans. Maybe regular humans are just charmed by the banter and the rambling and the way Stiles enjoys things to the fullest extent. Or maybe they just think he’s cute and want him to like them in return. But for werewolves, and for Derek in particular, it’s nothing like Stiles growing on him. It’s almost instantaneous, at least when the wolf catches its mate’s scent properly. There is no growing needed. 

It’s an embarrassing evolutionary trait that Derek wishes was exaggerated. It is really not. 

“Sure, that must be it,” Derek has to hide a smirk. 

Stiles holds up his fist for Derek to bump, and he does it helplessly, even though he knows that the touch is only going to make it worse. 

Only four hours left before he can go home and lose his mind properly. 

* * *

When he told Laura she just laughed at him. She hasn’t been any help at all - he shouldn’t have been surprised at that, because she usually isn’t - and so Derek is back at the shop, once again working with Stiles because apparently Stiles prefers to work with him above all others. He feels himself preening at that and hates himself a little. 

Instincts are, as Stiles would undoubtedly say, a bitch. 

“You said we could work all the shifts together,” Stiles just grins when Derek pretends to be annoyed at the match-up. “No take backs. You’re stuck with me now.” 

Yes. Yes please. Just about every part of Derek is telling him that he is supposed to do everything he can to make that happen. Though there is definitely still a part of him trying to fight the fugue and insisting that he cannot quit his job that he loves just to spend more time working at this dumb coffeeshop with Stiles. 

The mate fugue is no joke, and the only way out is through. It only lasts for a little while, and exposure is the only thing that helps. Really, the fugue is only meant to encourage wolves to spend time with their mates - it is meant to make him take notice. 

Not that there is any way that Stiles could escape anyone’s attention. 

“This is the part where you look disappointed, dude,” Stiles continues to bicker, even though Derek isn’t really giving him anything to work off. “You missed your cue.” 

Yeah, maybe normally Derek would crack a joke about being disappointed, grumbling and complaining a bit to sell the bit. But he’d hope that Stiles would be able to see through enough of that to realize that Derek doesn’t actually hate him. At all. 

Not that he’s not waiting patiently so he can at least be a little annoyed with him again. Annoyed is kind of his permanent state around most people, and he prefers it that way. 

“Is this the part where I get my coffee?” A grumpy businessman interjects. 

Derek very manfully doesn’t grow too loudly at him for being a dick to Stiles. It’s a close thing though, and he really hopes that Stiles didn’t hear the noises that did escape. That’s really not how he wants his mate to find out that werewolves are real, and Derek is one. He absolutely intends to tell Stiles before he tells him about the mates thing, but having to explain it in a very busy coffee shop (Luna gets a morning rush Starbucks would be jealous of) is just awkward. 

“A medium pumpkin and gingerbread latte for Adam?” Stiles calls out far too loudly, watching as most of the crowd sags in disappointment. “Double whip?” 

The grumpy guy - obviously in a hurry - basically yanks the latte from Stiles’ hands and rushes out the door, his cheeks a bit more red than they were before Stiles exposed him for his hipster order (and the extra whipped cream). Derek just falls a little more in love with Stiles for the subtle viciousness, even as they both rush to keep up with the demand for more lattes. 

“Good boy,” Stiles patronizingly tells Derek when they can finally breathe again. “I think you finally learned how to make decent latte art without growling at the customers too much.” 

His latte art is fucking amazing for someone who basically has zero artistic skill, and it’s kind of nice that Stiles is recognizing that. The growling though? That is kind of worrying, because it’s not a thing that Stiles was supposed to notice. Derek has been hiding the wolf thing for most of his life now, at least in public, and most humans never have a clue that there is something different about him. Stiles is once again proving himself to be different, though. 

“Thanks?” Derek doesn’t want to be impressed about that half-assed compliment. 

“Don’t worry,” Stiles continues as if Derek hasn’t said anything else. “I’ll let you growl at me if you need that. I don’t hate it, and I know it’s a part of your thing.” 

Now this is taking a turn that Derek has no idea how to handle. It’s taken a turn towards a werewolf reveal, right here in the middle of Cora’s dumb coffee shop. And yeah, Derek is kind of impressed that Stiles is apparently really quick at figuring things out, but he is also worried about how subtle he’s going to be about it. Stiles is not a subtle person at all. 

“My thing?” Derek repeats dumbly. 

“This place is called Luna for a reason,” Stiles is apparently more in the know than Derek expected. “I’m literally one of the few people on staff without moon issues. Which is a good thing, because someone needs to keep this place up and running when the moon’s out.” 

He knows. Stiles knows. He definitely knows. 

And maybe Derek isn’t the one who blew it. Maybe Stiles has known the whole time, and Derek has done nothing wrong here that Laura is going to mock him for. It would make the whole mates situation a lot easier if there’s only one awkward secret that he has to work not to blurt out in the middle of Luna. The fugue is already dying down a bit, which makes it easier to stay quiet and wait for Stiles to reveal exactly what he knows. 

“You didn’t know I know?” Stiles is now openly laughing at him. “You really should have been more subtle. You’ve sniffed me like… twelve times since the start of our shift.” 

Twelve times? Derek is pretty sure he’d just done it once or twice or… probably more like fifteen times, if he’s being completely honest. And now he can’t even blame the mate fugue thing anymore - he only has himself to blame. And Stiles, for smelling like everything Derek has ever wanted. Everything he’s missing about being in a large pack, and everything he wants in life. 

Alright, so maybe Derek isn’t quite back to normal yet. 

“You smell nice,” Derek huffs. 

“I really don’t,” Stiles shakes his head. 

According to his heartbeat, he actually believes that, the idiot. Apparently Stiles actually thinks he doesn’t smell like a whole lot of happiness. Which is dumb, but Derek is trying not to be super obvious about how wrong Stiles is about that. 

Except he can’t seem to keep his mouth under control. 

“Agree to disagree,” Derek is not ready to let him win. 

“You’re way too fucking stubborn, dude,” Stiles is almost smiling though. 

He is usually stubborn, yes, but to this extent? Stiles probably just brings it out in him, which is the first thing about this that Laura isn’t going to kill herself laughing over. So that’s nice. 

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek sighs. 

“Der-Bear?” Stiles is really pushing his luck now. “Big guy? I know your name is Derek, but I don’t think I’ve called my friends by their actual first name in…. Ages.” 

It’s not great, but Derek can stick around until Stiles’ nicknames get a bit less terrible - and a bit more like pet names, perhaps. Even though he usually hates those, he thinks that he might grow to like them if it’s Stiles using them. As long as they’re not too ridiculous - because Stiles is absolutely going to try to push a couple of boundaries here. 

“So, we’re friends,” Derek is inordinately pleased at that. 

“Obviously,” Stiles tells him in return. “You actually want to be on a shift with me. You’re basically the first person in the place to go that far. That means we’re friends.” 

It’s a good start, but for some reason - mate fugue? Can he just push his every dumb decision on mate fugue? - Derek isn’t satisfied with the friends thing, even though he’s only met Stiles once before and Stiles spent most of that shift alternately rambling and yelling at Derek. 

He’s not sure what that says about his taste in mates. 

“Just friends?” Derek finds himself asking. 

“There’s no just about being friends with someone,” Stiles immediately starts off on a rant that Derek was not expecting. “Friendship is one of the most valuable relationships in someone’s life and I’m sick and tired of people saying just friends like it’s somehow lesser than - holy shit!” 

Derek listens to the rant because, well, Stiles isn’t actually wrong about that. Also, it’s kind of amusing to listen to him spinning his metaphorical wheels until the intentions behind the message finally reach his brain. It leaves him awkwardly gaping at Derek with a mostly empty jug of soy milk in his hand, trying to recover the power of speech. 

And yeah, Derek finds that he really fucking likes winning if it makes Stiles look like this. 

“Was that you trying to ask me out?” Stiles basically drops everything he’s doing. “Because if so, you kind of suck at it, dude. Der-Bear. I accept. Or, I will, if you ever properly ask.” 

The jug clatters to the floor and some of the remaining drops spill over the already slightly sticky floors. Derek can feel himself starting to grin, because his mate is whip smart and sassy and doesn’t let him get away with any bullshit. Sure, he can never let Stiles and Laura meet - at least not until after Stiles finds out about the mates thing - but he kind of likes it. 

He really, really likes Stiles. 

“Do you want to go out on a date with me?” Derek dutifully recites. 

“Love the enthusiasm, big guy,” Stiles smiles like he knows exactly what this means. 

Because while Derek knows he sounds like a bit of a robot, he’s actually really excited about getting that date. Not that Stiles has said yes yet, but Derek trusts that he will, judging by the way Stiles smells of arousal, and he appears to be contemplating making a move on Derek right here, right now. And Derek wouldn’t exactly say no to that. 

“Can I just get my cappuccino?” A random customer interrupts before it can go anywhere. 

Right. This is not the kind of show he wants to give to total strangers. Or anyone. 

Stiles picks up the empty jug before mouthing ‘hell yes’ at Derek, and Derek gets to work on that dumb cappuccino. If only to prove to Stiles that he can totally make one. 

* * *

Derek is still pissed at Cora for just bailing on her pack and her business. He still fucking sucks at latte art, and his smiles for the customers are usually fake as fuck. But he’s getting really good at making the dumb pumpkin and gingerbread lattes, and if he has a closing shift he usually gets to make out with his boyfriend a little bit while they work. And when they’re done closing up and get to leave this dumb place together. 

“I never asked,” Stiles starts when he’s trying to catch his breath from a solid twenty minutes of making out against the facade of Luna. “How did you end up here?” 

Stiles has asked him a lot of questions. And he means a lot. Like, sometimes he thinks Stiles would do well in law enforcement if this is the kind of off the cuff interrogation techniques he tries out on Derek. That’s how many questions Stiles has asked, most of them ridiculous and having to do with Derek’s favorite books and superheroes and even his favorite color. 

For some reason, he has managed to skip the actual personal shit so far. 

“The porn career didn’t pan out,” Derek deadpans. 

It’s a dumb callback to the first time they met, but it still makes Stiles smile his dumbly pleased grin that Derek has come to adore - and Derek kind of likes being the man of mystery for a little bit. He’s never really liked talking about his past, and it seems Stiles has picked up on it. 

“The industry’s really gone to the dogs,” Stiles cracks that terrible joke on purpose. 

“My sister needed me,” Derek shrugs. “Just until they find her replacement, or she comes back from whatever vision quest she’s been on for the past six weeks or so.” 

There has been no news. Well, Laura got a postcard a week ago, from somewhere in Argentina, but Cora has not bothered to contact Derek, even though he’s saving her ass. He’s still kind of bitter about it, but not as much as he was before Stiles. It seems a bit easier to be mildly supportive when he found his mate because of Cora’s dumb not quite vacation. 

Only mildly supportive though. That’s the best he can do. 

“Cora is your sister?” Stiles gives him a considering look. “Yeah, okay, I can see it.” 

Derek is… not sure if that is a compliment, but he just might be able to go with it, because Stiles is there with him, walking side by side as they head towards Derek’s apartment. Stiles is even willing to hold Derek’s hand as they walk, a dumb gesture that manages to ground Derek in a city that is noisy and smelly and bright all the damn time. It makes him feel more settled in his skin to have Stiles there with him. 

“What do you actually do for a living?” Stiles just has to know. 

“Keep guessing,” Derek grins. “You’ll figure it out eventually.” 

By now, he knows exactly what he’s doing by challenging Stiles, and he knows that it’s completely worth it. Stiles is not going to rest until he finds out, and Derek is going to have to be at the top of his game the whole time, but he’s definitely up for the challenge. 

“I’ll find out,” Stiles teases. “You know I will. What do I get when I do?” 

Anything he wants - but that’s not something that Derek’s going to say out loud, not on the streets of New York. Maybe in a few minutes, when they’ve made it to Derek’s place and Stiles has done more of his customary gawking. He hasn’t been to Derek’s place much, after all, in the few weeks since they’ve made the leap from going on a few dates to being in an actual relationship - one that includes being Facebook official for some dumb reason. 

Though, for his mate? Derek will happily brave the comment section. 

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Derek promises. 

Stiles leers at him because he’s an idiot, and Derek pulls him in close as they finally make it to the brownstone that Derek calls home. He plants a quick kiss on Stiles’ lips just to remind Stiles what kind of promises he’s willing to make here. 

As usual, that brief taste just isn’t enough. He leans in again and… 

“I knew you’d hit it off!” 

Well, Cora’s back. 


End file.
